


cut the wire

by brucewaynery



Series: iron man bingo fills [11]
Category: Marvel
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hunger Games Setting, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, attempted sadness, um yall its just sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2020-08-19 22:43:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20217502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brucewaynery/pseuds/brucewaynery
Summary: It doesn't feel like a victory if the other guy is the love of his life.OR A Hunger Games AU, wherein Steve and Tony are the last tributes standing.





	cut the wire

**Author's Note:**

> disclaimer, i haven't watched/read the hunger games since 2015, sorry for inaccuracies x

“Stark, stop it,” Steve says, grappling for control, desperately trying to stop his voice from breaking - he’s well resigned to his heart, “I’m taking them, you win, happily ever after.”

“It’s not ‘happy’ if you’re not there,” Tony says, long past pretending not to love him, and despite knowing him, really and truly for maybe three weeks, Tony can confidently say that he loves him. Nothing like a nationally televised fight to the death to really get the romance going.

“You have a life, a family, friends, you, you’re more than all this,” Steve says, low, as he waves a hand behind him.

“You’re better than me--” Tony insists.

Steve has the gall to rolls his eyes, “Not this again, Tony, Tony, you’re a different person to who walked in a month ago, you actually have the power to change things.”

“I bet that you’re the audience favourite,” Tony says, changing lanes. Steve most definitely is, skinny kid from the poorest, worst off district, ending up as one of the two remaining tributes, beating all odds, a classic underdog. If there’s anything Tony remembers about the little under-the-table tips and insights he got about this whole thing, is that the gamemasters have a boss and that boss pays attention to what people (District 1, maybe District 2, 3 at a push) like and don’t like, _who_ they like and don’t, and structures the games and outcomes accordingly, so put yourself in audience favour. Or, at least, try to.

“Yeah right,” Steve scoffs, “broke orphan from the shittiest district--”

“You’ve made it this far--”

“And you’re gonna go further!”

“Not without you!”

“I can’t,” Tony continues, quieter, this isn’t something he wants nationalised, broadcast for the world to see, “I can’t, do this, the rest of it, without you, Steve.” He takes his hands in his, unconsciously, crushing the nightlock berries they were holding.

“Tony,” Steve says, gently, and he knows what’s coming. 

The worst thing is, he expected to win at the start of this, everyone expected him to win, the son of one of the richest men in Panem, trained since birth, he’d be a disappointment to his district, to the system if he loses. He has the power, the influence, especially as a victor, Steve has… nothing. Nothing after this, no one waiting for him, no one rooting for him.

“I’m not letting this godawful system, the Games, the who-the-fuck-ever ruin you,” Steve finishes, determined.

“And you’ll let it ruin you? Give me a day, or, or an hour,” Tony begs, he can’t let him die, all his training, the past 16 years of physical and mental training can’t make him turn his back on Steve and let him kill himself, or let something else get him.

Steve just smiles sadly, like he’s made up his mind, and out of everything he’s come to know about him in the last three weeks, when Steve makes up his mind, very little can make him change it.

\- 

“You’re going to win,” Steve says, conversationally, passing him the water bottle. They’re about a week into this at this point.

“Oh yeah, how can you be so sure?” Tony replies, just as lightly, kicking his foot. They’re sitting up in a tree and the stars are out, if they were in any other place, any other situation, Tony would kiss him. And he’s fairly confident (okay, incredibly confident) that Steve would kiss back, “You do know that there’s still at least 8 people left, right?”

Steve shrugs, “You’re the smartest one here.”

Tony knows that. He’s a genius, certified, but it’s different when Steve tells him.

“But don’t get too big of a head,” he continues, grinning, “you’re also the dumbest.”

“Ass,” Tony retorts. He honestly doesn’t know what he would’ve done if Steve wasn’t here - he’s been trained for this since he left the womb, everything about him, his body, his mind, has been forced to become the perfect tribute, but he was never prepared for Steve. He’d come in expecting a chaotic hell, he’d never thought that he’d make a friend, maybe more.

He’d come in ready to kill everyone, not coming to wish that he didn’t have to.

Steve just hums in response, “Can’t always cut the wire.”

\--

“You only care about yourself, all of you lot fucking do!” Rogers yells at him, from an arm's length away.

“So what,” Tony bites back, this Rogers guy is already a pain in his ass - they’re only on the second day, cute, but a goddamn pain, “do you know where you are?”

He rolls his eyes, “I’m not an idiot.”

“You’re the kinda guy to lie down on the wire, huh?” Tony has him all figured out, people like him <strike>caring</strike> naive wouldn’t last a day in his district, or the Capitol. There’s a reason they’re where they are anyway.

He won’t feel guilty when he kills him.

“Better than cutting the wrong one.”

“Good thing I know the difference.”

Tony doesn’t know why he didn’t just kill him right now, they always say that the first one’s the hardest, but he would’a been an easy one, skinny and short - someone’ll probably get him soon. He’s surprised that he’d made it past the Cornucopia.

\--

“Yeah I can,” Tony replies, confidently.

Steve laughs. It’s a pretty sound, amongst all this chaos and gore, Steve’s an angel. Even if he’ll deny it to his dying day (Tony doesn’t want to think about how soon that day is.) “What if there isn’t a wire?”

Tony grins at his smartassery, “It’s a metaphor.”

-

“I don’t think you can cut the wire this time.”

“I can,” Tony repeats, if there’s anything, anything he can do, it’s find another way, cut the wire, something almost as instinctive as protecting Steve has become.

“Tony, you don’t get it. Come sun up, one of us will die, there’s no getting around that, there isn’t a wire.” They’re so close that Tony can see tears in Steve’s eyes.

“There’s always a wire.”

“Tony.”

“I promise--”

Steve sighs, closing his eyes. “I’m not making you a liar. There’s no wire.”

“Gimme an hour, I’ll find a wire,” Tony pleads, regardless of the sun peeking up over the horizon.

“There’s no wire, Tony!”

“There’s,” Steve swallows, “there’s no wire here, Tony, there’s no better way, there’s, there’s nothing, it’s me or, or both of us.”

“Then both of us.”

“Tony. C’mon, there’s going to be a winner and it’s going to be you.” Tony’s holding him now, in his arms, in some sort of hug, so he tugs him fully into his arms and rests his head on his. He hates how perfectly they fit together.

“This is goodbye,” Steve murmurs into his chest, resigned to his fate.

Tony releases him slightly, so he can look at him properly one last time. He’s right. It tears him apart inside to admit it, it feels like his chest is lead, heavy and poisonous. The sun is properly coming up now, orange-pink rays spreading across the land, illuminating his face.

He’s never looked more beautiful.

“I love you,” Tony says, croaky. It slipped out, entirely of it’s own accord, but he can’t bring himself to regret it, for not a word, not a syllable, is a lie.

Steve smiles and leans up to kiss him, chaste and sweet and it’s the best five seconds of Tony’s life. He might kiss other people, he might even fall in love again, but nothing will ever come close to that moment with Steve.

When they pull away, Steve kisses him on the cheek and then turns Tony around, so he can’t see him. When he tries to spin back around, Steve stops him by gripping his biceps and resting his forehead on his back, “Don’t.”

“Steve,” Tony whispers, slipping his eyes shut.

When he steps away, Tony’s heart falls out the bottom of his chest, he wants to turn around, when he hears him snap off more of those damn berries, he wants to tackle him to the ground, do everything in his power to stop him. It takes all his willpower, and some, to not.

Steve leans up on his tiptoes to kiss the back of his neck, “Don’t forget your power, Tony, I love you.”

_“And the winner, of the 42nd Hunger Games, is Anthony Edward Stark, of District 1.”_

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading, please leave a kudo/comment/[reblog](https://ineffablestarkrogers.tumblr.com/post/186955472186/cut-the-wire) this post if you liked it


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